


breaking, crying, everything in between

by orphan_account



Category: American Horror Story: Murder House
Genre: Cutting, Post- Season Finale, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 06:57:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5957923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're stuck in this hellhole, for eternity.<br/>How badly he wants to hold her, one more time.<br/>In his head, he holds her as she cries, his arms twisting around her body.<br/>But this is reality.<br/>His arms are empty.<br/>Tate cries, alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	breaking, crying, everything in between

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to listen to music while you read this, I wrote it listening to "All Alright" by Sigur Ros.

There’s so much blood.  
It pours through the cracks in the chipped tiles, overflowing from the bathtub. She lies in the bloody water, silent, still, beautiful like the sky.  
Tate takes the razor from her cold hand and sets it on the bathroom counter. The blood turns the white towels red as he tries to wipe it from the floor. It’s gushing too fast from the tub.  
It’s not like she can die. Violet’s been doing this every week. Inventing new ways to try and kill herself. Last week, she jumped out of the window. The week before that, she hung herself. Last month, she stuck a gun in her mouth.  
She’s walked away from every attempt.  
Tate thinks about it every day. Killing himself. He thinks about doing it with Violet, holding her hand in his as his life fades away. His last glance being her beautiful face.  
It won’t happen. They’re stuck here in this hellhole, for eternity.  
He wouldn’t have ever wanted her to be here. She doesn’t deserve this.  
How badly he wants to hold her in his arms, one more time.  
Putting the towels in the sink, Tate pulls the plug from the tub. The water swirls down the drain, but the blood from the gashes in Violet’s arms still gush in a continuous stream.  
Tate climbs into the tub, and pulls her onto his lap. He rests his chin on her head, and covers the wounds on her arms with his hands. Tears are falling into her hair, and he inhales the scent of it.  
“I’m sorry, Violet. I’m so fucking sorry. You don’t deserve this. Out of everyone, you don’t deserve this. I should have been there for you, to save you. You’re so beautiful. I’m not the same without you. I miss you so much, it hurts. But I’ll give you space. You won’t ever have to look at me again. But I’m not giving up on you Violet. I’ll never give up.”  
He lowers his head, until his lips are touching her ear.  
“I’ll wait,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “Forever, if I have to.”  
He plants a kiss on her head, his lips trembling.  
Then he climbs out of the bathtub, and heads down the hall.  
He hears a gasp, and Violet’s wails fill his head, his lungs, his heart.  
In his head, he holds her as she cries, his arms twisting around her body.  
But this is reality.  
His arms are empty.  
Tate cries, alone.


End file.
